


Home Sheep Home

by 1000PaperCranes



Series: Mossy Bottom Farm Daze [1]
Category: Shaun the Sheep (Cartoon), Wallace & Gromit
Genre: Before All Shaun the Sheep Media, Gen, No Beta: We die like mne, One Hour One Shot, Wallace & Gromit: A Close Shave, bridging the gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22803562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000PaperCranes/pseuds/1000PaperCranes
Summary: Bitzer is half sheepdog, half guard hound, and ALL failure.  What's a bad dog to do?
Relationships: Bitzer & the Farmer
Series: Mossy Bottom Farm Daze [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639333
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Home Sheep Home

Bitzer would know the familiar sound of this year's hogget's distinctive 'Ma~ai' anywhere. It was impossible, but he heard it. Bitzer’s ears twitched toward the sound, but he stayed where he was, flopped in the middle of the sheep’s paddock, wallowing in his failure.

Most of the sheep had been rustled.

They’d left the mother sheep and her unborn lamb. They’d left Shirley, surely because she was too big to rustle. Four more had escaped the rustling by hiding in the pig pen. The pigs were still angry. Bitzer didn’t care.

His haunch was still sore from the bite he had taken. He’d failed to protect the sheep. He didn’t deserve… anything but the mutton grinder. Bitzer watched the farmer angrily slop the pigs and march back into the house. It was a good thing Bitzer had lost his appetite along with the sheep.

The ghost bleat tickled his ear, again. Bitzer buried his face and his twitching ears under his paws. If the hogget were really near the sheep would be going crazy, but they’d taken to moping under the big tree. They hadn’t moved all day, lying in the shade and chewing morosely.

“It’s alright, lad,” an unfamiliar voice said, a gentle hand petting Bitzer down the length of his back. “We’ve brought something back to you.”

Curiosity getting the better of him, Bitzer looked up into the face of a strange man in a green jumper. Bitzer’s nose twitched, the man’s outstretched hand smelled of lanolin. Bitzer didn’t know what to think of that, he sighed, dropping his head back to the grass and chewing anxiously on his own wrist. He’d already lost the sheep; it didn’t matter who this man was.

A soft, wet nose nudged his ear. Turning toward it, Bitzer came nose to nose with another dog. The dog stared at him for a moment, sympathetic, before turning away. Bitzer followed the dog’s purposeful gaze. Behind them both was the farmer, holding a small sheep in a sweater.

“That’s done it, ay, Gromit?” Bitzer ignored the strange man, turning as far toward his owner as his damaged leg would allow. “Shaun’s a bit too much for us to handle…”

Bitzer stopped listening when the sheep bleated a greeting. It was the hogget. _His_ hogget. Bitzer barked excitedly, questions coming a mile a minute. What had happened? Where had he been? Who were these people? Shaun, really? How did he get away from the rustlers? And every other thought that came into his head.

“Well, that’s quite the quiet bark, isn’t it, Gromit?” the strange man said. He stood up, walking toward _Shaun_ and the farmer. “No wonder you didn’t hear anything,” he said to the farmer. He pulled something shinny out of his pocket. “I hope you haven’t been too hard on him. Looks like Preston did a number on him.” Who was Preston? The strange man chuckled. “Gromit can’t bark at all.”

Bitzer stopped listening, again, turning to the dog. Gromit inclined his head, agreeing with his human. He didn’t bark _at all_. Of course, Bitzer’s bark was useless, so what was the difference? He whimpered, a new wave of shame crashing into him. He’d failed the sheep. Shaun was back because Gromit and his human were kind. Bitzer was still a worthless guard hound.

The farmer put Shaun down, taking the shiny thing. Shaun moved very close to Gromit, allowing the farmer a clear path to Bitzer. He huddled against the ground, prepared for his next punishment.

“Bitzer,” the farmer said, picking up Bitzer’s muzzle in one hand. “It’s not your fault.” He slipped something over Bitzer’s head. It was the shiny thing. “I dunnae if this whistle will help, but it’s worth a try.” The farmer ruffled Bitzer’s ears before standing and waving the other human toward the farmhouse.

Gromit, Shaun, and Bitzer watched them go, finding themselves suddenly surrounded by the remaining sheep the second the door closed. Bleated questions rained down on Gromit and Shaun. Bitzer couldn’t get a bark in edgewise, but that was okay. He settled in to watch the retelling of the epic tale. A mechanical dog? Bitzer turned, halfheartedly licking the bandage on his hip. It did explain a lot, though. What a terrible invention. All of his sheep _gone_ because of one bad dog.

**Author's Note:**

> I figure Bitzer and Shaun are about the same age. In this story, that's about six months old. I also think that Farmageddon is the story of how Shaun and Bitzer became friends, taking place before the series. This story takes place before that.


End file.
